


Hurricane Drunk

by Thursday_Next



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:54:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday_Next/pseuds/Thursday_Next
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine drinks. Mostly because, well, he's a bit of an alcoholic, but also because of Merlin and his stupid best friend Arthur and their obvious love for each other above everyone else. Above Merlin's love for Gwaine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [ this kmm prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/17437.html?thread=16613917#t16613917): MODERN AU. Merlin has been dating Gwaine for little whilenow and as much fun as it all was in the beginning - drunken nights out, every night - Merlin's starting to think he has a problem.  
> Gwaine drinks mostly because, well, he's a bit of an alcholic, but also because of Merlin and his stupid best friend Arthur and their obvious love for each other above everyone else.  
> Basically depressed!Gwaine drowning his sorrows, because he's counting down the days till arthur sweeps out the rug from under him. And it doesn't help that Arthur is newly single...

_I'm going out,  
I'm gonna drink myself to death  
And in the crowd  
I see you with someone else,  
I brace myself,  
Cause I know it's going to hurt,  
But I like to think at least things can't get any worse._

Florence and the Machine, _Hurricane Drunk_

 

It all started with drink and it damn well looked like it was going to end that way too. 

They met in a bar fight. Not a very auspicious beginning, when you look at it. Although come to think of it Gwaine hadn't actually started this particular bar fight, so maybe that was something in its favour. 

It wasn't eyes meeting across a crowded room or love at first sight or anything like that. Merlin didn't exactly light up the room with his radiant beauty or any of that shite. But then he saved Gwaine from a braining with a bottle of vodka, eyes lit up like Christmas lights and a big gawky smile and Gwaine just knew, _oh, you and me are going to have some_ fun.

It was fun, too. The fight, the flight across London in the rain, the bit where they'd holed up in Merlin's poky little flat to lick their wounds. Somewhat literally, which was another thing that seemed a little bit weird in hindsight but at the time seemed like a good idea. There had been a lot of licking, Gwaine remembered, even when they'd run out of wounds. And then there had been sex. Wonderful, easy going, fun sex with plenty of laughing and wrestling and well, fucking. Merlin had a mouth on him like a sailor and boy could he use it to good effect. Three days of sex, if his memory served him right, punctuated by more drinking and possibly food although his memory was a bit hazy on that part, a couple of showers (together) and three phonecalls. He remembered the phone calls.

_"No mum, I'm fine, I'll – haha – yeah, I'll call you at the weekend."_

_"I'm sorry Gaius, I'm really sick. Yeah, I'll make sure I stay in bed. Definitely. See you Wednesday."_

_"No. No it's none of your business – Gwaine, stop, I'm on the phone! -- I'm a big boy, Arthur, I can take care of myself. See you Friday."_

Gwaine definitely remembered that phone call. Partly because he was pretty sure he responded fairly predictably with "You certainly are a big boy, gonna let me watch you take care of yourself?" and partly because it wasn't the last time their bedroom antics were interrupted by Arthur.

 

Gwaine discovered that Merlin was in love with Arthur -- big, stupid, let-me-die-for-you love – the same way he discovered everything else. Not because Merlin sat down and told him about it, but because it was impossible not to notice. Just like it was impossible not to notice that Merlin was untidy, that he loved his mother, that he supported West Ham and liked Chinese food and plinky indie music and blowjobs.

It wasn't like it was a problem or anything. Gwaine didn't do relationships. Didn't plan on getting into a relationship with Merlin. Didn't plan anything much beyond where he was drinking at the weekend, most of the time. Their relationship, in so far as it merited the word, revolved around drinking and shagging and occasional odd things that seemed like a good idea when they were pissed, like mini-golf at midnight and breakfast in Trafalgar Square (if two bottles of Stella and a bacon roll could really be called breakfast). When Gwaine told Morgana about it she said it sounded romantic. He blinked at her and didn't really know what she meant.

 

Arthur _was_ the relationship type. Was in fact _in_ a relationship with a woman named Gwen. Gwaine found this out the night he and Merlin went to that bar that sold the really good mojitos on what might have been called their second date, if Gwaine did dates. Which he didn't. Merlin had the look of a man who _needed_ to get drunk rather than just wanting to. Gwaine didn't ask and Merlin didn't volunteer any specifics, but he mentioned in passing a best friend who was at home with his girlfriend and there was something of a strain in his eyes. 

"Ah," Gwaine said, "LTR." Gwaine said LTR in the same way other people say DOA. It was pretty much the same thing, really, as far as he was concened. Merlin snorted and clinked his glass against Gwaine's, sloshing mojito over the side. 

 

They fell in to being together, the same way Gwaine practically fell into Merlin's lap in that bar fight. It was a couple of months or six of hook-ups and wild nights out when Merlin said quite casually that if he wasn't shagging anyone else on a regular basis, how about they dispense with the condoms. Gwaine shrugged and said alright. A few months after that the lease came up on Gwaine's flat and he didn't renew it. If anyone asked, it was a live-in friends-with-benefits arrangement. How that was any different from any other couple, Gwaine didn't know, exactly, but they didn't have matching china or guest towels or dinner parties and they did have sex and a well-stocked booze cupboard so it was alright with him. 

Gwaine disliked Arthur long before he actually met him in person. Arthur had an annoying habit of interrupting just at the wrong time with his endless, needy phonecalls. Once, not long after he and Merlin first met, Gwaine snatched the phone from Merlin's hand and baldly told Arthur to sod off, they were in the middle of something. Merlin gave a surprised laugh, as if the idea of _not_ spending hours listening to Arthur's problems or agreeing to run errands for him had never occurred to him before, and let Gwaine tug him back down into the bed. 

When they did finally meet, it was clear that the dislike was mutual and the two of them were only tolerating each other's company for Merlin's sake. But it was equally clear that Merlin was the bone of contention between them. For all that Arthur was a prissy, self-important _arse_ , it was the effect he had on Merlin that really got under Gwaine's skin. How his easy-going, gorgeous, fun, brilliant Merlin was somehow made to feel like a supporting player in the charmed life of Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur for his part clearly thought Gwaine wasn't good enough for Merlin. Hell, he was probably right. Although Gwaine was of the opinion that if Arthur didn't want Merlin for himself then he had no right coming over all dog-in-the-manger about it. If he couldn't see how likable – even, damn it, _lovable_ \-- Merlin was, well that was his loss and Gwaine's gain. 

And it was a gain, a surprising, un-looked for happiness. Gwaine felt as though he finally understood the phrase _falling_ in love – it was like tripping and unexpectedly landing headlong in domestic bliss. The bliss of the bliss part outweighed the terror of the domestic bit, and he found he didn't at all mind being Merlin's plus one to work dos, cooking for him, or even the days where there was no drinking and no sex and just the two of them sprawled on the sofa bickering over control of the remote.

 

Of course everything went to shit the day Gwaine realised that actually, Arthur _could_ see how lovable Merlin was. It was one thing knowing Merlin had an impossible crush on his straight best friend, quite another to know that his feelings weren't at all unrequited and that Arthur was as mad for Merlin as Merlin was for him. After that it was only a matter of time before Arthur swept the metaphorical rug of domestic bliss out from under his feet. Just when he was starting to get used to the idea that maybe, this thing with Merlin could go on for ever and he wouldn't mind.

 

It started with a phone call from the hospital. A phone call from Arthur who was at the hospital because Merlin was _in_ the hospital -- nothing too serious, a broken wrist and some concussion after colliding with a cyclist -- but it had been Arthur's name down as Merlin's next of kin and he'd been the one the hospital had called. Gwaine called Arthur all kinds of unsanitary names when he got there because it was clear that Arthur had been there quite a while, _holding Merlin's hand and looking into his eyes with that stupid puppy-dog look of his_ , before he even thought to call Gwaine. Their arguing very nearly got them both thrown out by the disapproving ward sister, but promising to be on their best behaviour they resorted to glowering at each other over Merlin's hospital bed. 

When Merlin opened his eyes, Arthur was the first to say "Hey," and smile at him. Merlin smiled back and Gwaine could see for the first time the love and care written all over Arthur's face. 

"Where's Gwaine?" Merlin asked a few seconds later, a few seconds too late to stop the swelling unease in Gwaine's chest

*

It was eight thirty. Merlin should have been back hours ago. Gwaine took another drink from the bottle, not even bothering with a glass this time. He knew where Merlin was.

"Hi," Merlin called, breathless from having taken the stairs two at a time, as usual, "Sorry I'm late, Arthur had a crisis. Hope you weren't... what are you doing?"

"Just having a little drink."

"On your own. In the dark." Merlin crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. Gwaine shrugged and Merlin rolled his eyes. 

"Well, you weren't here, so obviously, on my own." Gwaine wished it didn't sound so much the sentence passed over the rest of his entire life.

"Well, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Arthur had a crisis, he needed me." Merlin flopped into the armchair across the room from Gwaine, who snorted loudly. Merlin narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Arthur's always having a crisis." He clamped down on the urge to say _I need you too_ because it sounded a little too much like whining. He wasn't quite at the whining stage, yet.

"Don't be such an arse. It's serious this time. I think he and Gwen are breaking up."

And well, wasn't that just peachy. Arthur, newly single looking for a willing shoulder to cry on and a rebound shag to boot and Merlin right there, just like he was always right there, even when he should have been at home with Gwaine. 

They went out. Merlin checked his messages fifteen times (Gwaine kept count) and texted back, frowning, his drink untouched while Gwaine lined up six shots and downed them one by one.

"Hey, weren't some of those for me?" Merlin asked. Gwaine just shrugged.

"I'll get some more."

 

Gwaine woke up, bleary eyed and alone. There was a text from Merlin on his phone,

_Gwen's moved her stuff out. Going round to Arthur's. C U l8r xx_

Gwaine groaned and looked at the clock. Pubs would be open soon, might as well get dressed and head off. It was going to be a long day.

 

Things went downhill quickly after that, an inexorable descent. Gwaine drank and when Merlin gave a long-suffering sigh or a resigned pout, he drank some more.

 

Merlin poured all the alcohol in the house down the sink. Gwaine went out and bought more. 

 

Gwaine could hear him on the phone, talking in hushed tones. 

"I don't know what to do, Arthur, he's drunk all the time and..."

Arthur. Of course it would be Arthur. Gwaine cracked open a beer.

*

Morgana hated Arthur almost as much as Gwaine did, and was happy to listen to his vitriolic outbursts. 

"You know they're not actually shagging, don't you?" she said, taking a drag from her cigarette. 

"It's only a matter of time," Gwaine returned grumpily.

"Well, yes. Unless you do something about it."

"Like what? Lie down in the path of the oncoming train of their fabulous true and destined love and get crushed?" Gwaine gestured sloppily with one hand. Morgana arched an eyebrow at him.

"Isn't that exactly what you're doing now?"

*

"What's the matter with you? You're hardly ever even sober anymore, Gwaine. I think you need to think about getting some help."

"Screw you. Oh wait, you've got Arthur to do that for you."

Merlin's face went red in the cheeks like he'd been slapped. 

"Is that what you think? You know what, fuck it, I don't have to listen to this. I'm going round Will's."

Gwaine was fairly sure that when he said 'Will's' he meant 'Arthur's'. He poured himself another drink.

*

Merlin walked out on him on a Tuesday. Gwaine was pretty sure it was a Tuesday. Might have been a Thursday. It was one of the ones ending in 'day', at any rate, and it was still a few hours before closing time. 

Gwaine scowled at the sofa and the bed and the photo of the two of them in Dublin that sat on the telly and all the trappings of domestic un-bliss. Then he grabbed a bottle of Jameson's and drank himself into oblivion. Oblivion didn't hurt quite so much, but the hangover was a bitch.

*

Morgana had warned him, so he knew what to expect. 

"Ha," he'd said, "I told you so." There was no triumph in it, though, only regret. He could practically hear her roll her eyes at him at the other end of the phone.

He downed a bottle of wine before he went out, his armour against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

It still hurt, though, to see the two of them together, kissing and whispering together, Arthur's arm wrapped around Merlin's waist. It hurt more to see how happy Merlin looked, practically glowing with it even from this distance. It had been a long time since he'd seen Merlin smile, Gwaine thought with a frown. He ordered a double, relishing the burn as the whisky slid down his throat, gripping the glass tightly with his hand. 

At least the worst was over with. He could brace himself against Merlin's pitying looks and Arthur's superior smirks and the inevitable wedding invite a few years down the line, the two of them adopting tiny orphans and everybody cooing over them. 

But then, with a sudden rush of clarity that made him feel instantly nauseous, he realised the truth. Morgana had been right. They hadn't been shagging. Merlin wouldn't have run off to throw himself into Arthur's arms if it hadn't been for him, sitting there and drinking and doing nothing to get him to stay.

He'd let this happen. He'd made this happen.

He'd driven them to it.

And that hurt worst of all.


End file.
